Those Magic Changes
by Duco Sententia
Summary: Amaya Nguyen, Amy, is a quiet Vietnamese girl who just doesn't belong in the ghetto. So when her father offers her a second chance in a quieter area, she gladly takes it. But what awaits her in La Push? SethxOC, Post BD
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The girl stared forlornly out the small window of the airplane, boldly labeled SOUTHWEST AIRLINES. Her black hair was fastened in an easy, messy bun near the nape of her neck, sparse hairs falling around her face, framing her angelic features. Her small body was curled into the blue chair she sat in, her dark eyes shining with almost sadness, but there was something else in them too. There was hope.

Hope of finding a new life. A new life in Forks, Washington.

---

The sandy colored wolf was trotting at an easy gait around a well worn path, the wind whistling through his fur, his eyes alight with satisfaction in life. He was joined by a companion, a small, lithe, gray she-wolf. Her eyes met his with amusement and, without spoken word, the two raced off, dirt flying beneath their huge paws as they attempted to outdo each other in a way only siblings would.

In the end, it was obvious who had won, despite the sandy wolf's effort. The she-wolf padded into the woods, happy with the victory, and the sandy wolf headed in the other direction, his defeat not daunting to him.

---

The girl stared at the piece of paper, doubting. On it were just scrawls.

_SARA CALL_

_21 QUILEUTE NATION ST._

_360 - 872 - 7613_

With another look of doubt, the girl waved down a taxi.

"Hey," a cheery driver greeted, "I go by Jon. May I ask your name?"

"Amy," the girl said quietly.

---

The wolves met up again, this time not as wolves, but as humans.

The she-wolf had transformed into a beautiful young American Indian woman with black hair cut into a sleek bob. An exotic flair was featured in her--her eyes were dark and stormy, her cheekbones high, her fingers long and elegant. She was tall, perhaps as tall the young man now with her.

He had turned from lanky sandy wolf to a tall, handsome American Indian young man. He too looked exotic, but it was not so prominent in his features as his sister. His black hair was cut short, tousled over his head. His eyes shone playfully at his sister as he smiled a dashing smile, his white teeth prominent against his dark skin even in the rain.

The girl rolled her eyes. "Oh, you know I won, Seth,"

* * *

**A/N: And so it begins :] I would love it if you would review! **

**And some extra information: This takes place POST BD. If you've read this before, you know I'd said during Eclipse, but I decided to change the timing. **

**-Ducky**

**Cleek? :)**

**v  
**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: In case you haven't noticed, I've edited up the chapter a little! :) So enjoy the newly refurbished version!**

* * *

_Amaya_

_Goodbye,_ was the one thought I had.

I wasn't yet sure how I felt about moving away. I just kept glancing behind me, to the small spot of the cities and the water. It was my home.

I must be happy. I _should_ be. But like any Californian, I was proud of my roots. I was proud I was born on Californian soil--and even more so that I was born in the Bay Area.

But I was unhappy. I was the one loner--the one Asian in the ghetto. I'd even been dubbed the Awkward Asian! The real Asians? The rich people? They lived on the west side of the bay. Me? I was adopted. Lived in the ghetto part of the east bay. By a family who could barely support itself.

Don't get me wrong, I love my brothers and my dad, but I don't ever get why my dad ever wanted more children. I guess he wanted to fill a hole in his life; I mean, his wife left him when my eldest brother, Eli, was 10.

I was tired of living in the ghetto. I told my dad I wanted to live in the suburbs; somewhere calm. I thought he'd send me to a suburb in the Bay Area, thought he'd somehow get the money. But, alas, no. He's sending me to La Push--a Quileute reservation in Washington.

Washington?!

I know. I thought that too. Yeah, he's Quileute, but… Way to displace me, Dad. I mean, I've never even been out of the state before, and now he's sending me to live on, like, the rainiest place in the U.S? Sometimes, I don't really understand fathers…

I couldn't say no. So here I was, on a plane to Seattle. From there, I had to get a taxi to get me to La Push.

He gave me a slip of paper saying three things: A name, a number, and an address. Then he practically kicked me out of the house.

I was happy. Ish..

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. I was used to cold weather, living in the Bay Area. The fog always rolled in, and once, it snowed. It rains.

And I could make new friends. I only had two back home--both guys--names' Rowland and Cooper. I seemed to get along with those testosterone men better than those ho-ish chicks.

Of course, that meant I got into guy things that guys do in the ghetto--deal drugs, handle guns, all that.

But I never did a gig--you know, of drugs. I couldn't. It was deep against my will. So I just sold it. I shot guns, you have to know how when you're in the ghetto, otherwise you're dead. But I never killed. Maybe I severely injured someone, but never killed.

Still, I was the outcast Asian. The dork.

Only Cooper and Rowland stuck by me, kind of like bodyguards. They were both six foot, and I only four foot nine. Embarrassing, right? Yeah. Short. I'm really short, especially for a fifteen year-old.

_Please stay buckled in your seat until the plane has come to a complete stop. Thank you for flying with Southwest Airlines._

The attendant's voice sounded overhead, and I sighed with relief.

Let's just say airplane rides aren't my favorite. In fact, while I may look cool on the outside, I'm nearly constantly thinking we're going to crash and die.

When the plane landed, I literally took off, tearing from my seat in a rush, earning glares from other passengers.

Impatiently, I waited for my luggage, and even when I got that, I still raced off to outside the airports.

I didn't like airports or airplanes at all. Unnatural, they are. So big, so large, and rather frightening. Unnatural, as I said. Against nature's will.

Laugh at me all you want, but this ghetto girl likes the wild. Maybe that's why I'm okay with going to La Push. I looked it up online, and apparently there's this forest--some houses even border it. There've also been disappearances, but that's why I brought my gun, right? I don't have it yet, but Rowland's mailing it, dismantled, of course.

"La Push," I told the taxi driver once he put all my bags in the trunk. I had a suitcase, a duffel bag, and a carry-on backpack. Those were all my belongings I could bring--any furniture or stuff was left at my dad's house.

The taxi driver tried to make small talk, but I wasn't in the mood.

Finally, he ended the awkward ride as we rolled up to a clean, normal-looking house. "Here we are…"

I paid him the fee and clambered out into the drizzling rain. He helped me get my bags out and promptly left.

I took a deep breath, then walked up to the door of the crème colored house. It seemed pretty average. _Well kept grass, but no picket fence_, I noted with dry humor. It seemed as if anyone could live in it--it didn't give off any special vibe or any sort. My small fingers pressed the doorbell next to a heavy wooden door, and a small woman answered.

She had graying salt and pepper hair, but her skin still looked slightly young. Tired bags hung under her dark brown eyes, but she smiled at me. "Hello. Can I help you?"

"Um… I'm looking for…" I looked at the paper with my dad's scrawlings, "Sara Call?"

"That's me," she wiped her hands on a rag.

"Um. My name's Amaya Nguyen. My dad sent me here. His name's Damon Br--"

"Don't you speak that name around me!" she suddenly hissed, her eyes narrowing in fury--not anger, fury, "Who does he think he is, sending his daughter to me like--?!"

"I'm sorry," I squeaked, "I didn't know it would piss you--I mean, get you mad. If it helps--"

There was a loud slam as the heavy wooden door shut. In my face. In my face! My mouth hung open for a full minute before I shut it and threw my duffel bag over my shoulder to join my backpack. I sighed and rolled my suitcase down the street and sat on the corner.

I normally didn't give up this easily, but I was a guest here. No, not a guest, a stranger. I was a freaking _stranger _in alien land. I was pissed. What was my dad thinking? I couldn't live here! God, what was _I_ thinking? Why did I agree to this? I didn't know where I was going, or what I was going to do! School started in the fall, and then what?

_Ugh._ I sighed and leaned against my backpack, thinking.

So far?

La Push: 1

Me: 0

What was my dad up to? Who exactly was Sara Call? And what the hell was wrong with her?

I wasn't sure how long I sat there in the drizzling rain, thanking God it wasn't pouring down on my stuff. I didn't even dare to go on to somebody's yard to disturb them. After meeting Sara Call, who knows what other psychos live here? So I sat there with my hood up, curled up in a ball with my stuff all surrounding me.

A loud rumble of a pickup truck came closer, and I couldn't help but look up. So far, I've only seen two cars truddling down this empty road. They both turned before they came to the corner where I was sitting. This one didn't.

A young man was at the wheel, probably in his early twenties. He was definitely a native, with his dark skin and black hair. The odd thing was, his hair was cropped shorter than most locals. He frowned as he saw me, and pulled up.

"Need a lift somewhere?" he asked.

"Nowhere to go," I mumbled, looking away. I really didn't want to look into his eyes right now--in fact, I really didn't want to look at his face. Then, he would see my face. I don't like people. Have I mentioned that? I don't like people. There. I mentioned it twice.

This was downright embarrassing. I was alone in this strange place, completely freaked, and I knew I had nowhere to go. Plus, I don't like people.

"Why don't you just come in? You can put your stuff in the backseat so they don't get wet," he offered.

I looked down at my scuffed Nikes, then finally looked up to meet his face. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. It's literally my job to help out around here, you know," he winked.

Wink? How weird. Oh, well. So there I was, climbing into a random stranger's pickup. He helped me put my stuff in the backseat of the truck, and we started off. I was desperate just to get somewhere dry by now. I felt like a fish. A freaking fish.

"So you have nowhere to go?" he asked.

"No," I mumbled. Oh, so he caught that.

"Why not?"

I stayed quiet for a while. "I just… I wanted to leave my home, so my dad sent me here. Apparently, where he sent me, I'm not wanted," I murmured quietly, softly drumming my fingers against the seat.

"Oh…" he stayed quiet too for a while, "Well… I guess you can stay with me if you want,"

I kept myself from wrinkling my nose. A random man asking me to stay at his house? He'd probably _rape_ me. I mean, he was hella buff. Like really muscular. It was scary. Then again, I was really desperate.

"Um… I actually don't even know your name…" I said timidly.

"Embry," he smiled, taking his eyes off the road for a second, "You?"

"Amaya… But my friends call me Amy,"

"Pretty name," he commented.

I blushed. "Thanks. You too,"

He laughed. It was a booming sound, yet rather calming. "I don't think guys like me like having our names being called 'pretty',"

I blushed a deeper red. "I mean, I like it. It's kinda nice. You don't meet a lot of people with weird names down in Richmond,"

"Richmond?" he asked.

"Um. Richmond, California,"

"So you're not from Washington at all?"

"Nope," I turned away from the window to look at him, "Why are you willing for me to stay at your place?"

"Like I said, it's my job to take care of people. Mostly the local Quileute, but people in general too," he shrugged, sneaking a glance at me.

"So… You're a good man?"

He shrugged. "I try to be,"

I turned and looked at his face full on. He looked at me funny out of the corner of his eye.

He had harsh features, like he'd seen much more than anyone could see, and he was alive. Black hair fell, barely reaching his eyebrows. I looked into his dark eyes, and he held my gaze from the corner of his eye.

I saw a harshness, but it seemed like he was trying to make it kind. If it was specifically for me, I wasn't sure. But I took it.

"If that offer is still open…" I said quietly, "I would quite enjoy staying at your place than standing out in the rain,"

He chuckled. "Cool," he suddenly swung in a U-turn.

And the house he pulled up to?

A clean, crisp crème colored house with a heavy wooden door and a well kept lawn with no picket fence.

My heart thudded, and he looked at me funny. "Um," I squeaked, "I kinda already know the lady who lives there…"

"You've met my mom?" he laughed.

"Yeah… She doesn't really like me…" I glanced at the house nervously as I climbed out.

"Why not?" he laughed, "She's quite a likeable person!" he pulled my suitcase and the duffel bag as if they didn't weigh anything. Now that he stood, he probably was over the six foot of Rowland and Cooper. Damn, I felt short.

"I…"

He swung open the door and I shrunk back, just waiting for Sara Call to come charging forward with a kitchen knife and behead me.

"Embry, is that you?" she called, her voice ringing through the small hallway.

"Yeah," he called back, "I brought a friend, 'kay?"

"Oh, who now?" there were rustling sounds as she bustled forward.

Her dark eyes grew wide as she took me in, sopping wet. "You!" she spat with sudden venom.

Embry frowned. "Mom," he said, "This is Amy. She's my friend," he said slowly.

"Do you know who she is?!" his mom demanded, pointing a finger at him, then at me. She didn't even look at me--like I was some sort of vile pest infesting her house faster than rabbits breed.

"Amy," Embry said, "Head down the hall to the last room on the right. That's the guest room. You can stay there,"

"Embry!" his mom snapped, "This is my house, my rules, and _I_ choose the guests!"

"And who helps out at the store which helped pay for this house? Who brought all of his wonderful friends to help stock shelves that were too tall for you?" Embry challenged.

"Embry…" I said quietly, "That's your _mom_ you're talking--"

"Amy. Just let me handle it. You can stay, okay? Nobody wants to see you stand in the pouring rain,"

I glanced out the window, to see it was full out raining now. But I couldn't leave Embry to fight with his mom like this. I never knew my mom. He couldn't just push her away like that. Maybe I didn't know him, but I don't think anybody deserves to lose their mom. Even if their mom is… Peculiar… Like Sara Call.

"Mrs. Call," I said quietly, "I never knew my mom. I was adopted by the-name-you-don't-want-me-to-say when I was five months old. I never even met my blood parents. The-name-you-don't-want-me-to-say was the only fatherly figure in my life, and even then he wasn't really my dad. We never hung out much; it was always me and my friends.

"And even though you hate him, I'm really hoping you don't hate me just because I call him 'Dad'. I really need a place to stay and I do feel really bad about barging in like this--I mean, I felt really bad about when Embry asked me, and even worse when I found you were his mom--no offense, sorry--but I _really really _need a place to stay; at least tonight, please, Mrs. Call, and I'll find some motel to stay in somewhere else tomorrow morning,"

I think it was at this point I lost Embry, yet won Sara Call.

Her features softened ever so slightly. It was quiet for a moment before she spoke, "_Miss_ Call," she said, "Help yourself to the guest room." And with that, she disappeared down the hall and into what I supposed was the kitchen.

Embry grinned at me. "Good job," he whispered. Then he said louder, "C'mon,"

He headed down the hallway and set my bags into a rather small room. "It's not much," he said, "Sorry. But it's all we got at the moment. My room's just across the hall there," he pointed directly across of my room, "And my mom's room is a door down from mine,"

I smiled up at him. "Thanks, Embry. I owe you big time,"

"You know it," he chuckled, "How about we unpack your clothes?"

"No, no need," I waved him away, "I'm only staying for one night!"

"You sure?" he asked worriedly.

"Yeah,"

"Embry!" his mom called down the hallway, "Jacob just called! He said you're late to Sam and Emily's barbecue!"

"Ah, crap!" Embry ran a hand through his hair, "Thanks, Mom!" he yelled down the hallway, "My friends have a barbecue and I completely forgot about it," he explained to me, "Come on, you're coming," he dragged me down the hallway.

I yelped, surprised at his strength and… Heat. He was warm, like he was burning up in fever. My eyes widened; maybe he was sick. "Are you feeling okay?"

He turned to face me, confused. "Yeah,"

I shook it off, shrugging. Maybe I was just cold. I had, after all, been sitting in the rain.

"Let's go," he pulled me by my jacket out the door.

"You're crazy!" I exclaimed. In retrospect, that might not have been the most polite thing to say when the guy's offering you a place to stay. But I seriously thought he was. Who drags a person he barely knows to his friends' barbecue? Apparently Embry. And who plays along like a fish swimming into the jaws of a shark? Apparently me.

"Well, do you want to stay here with my mom?" Embry challenged.

I grumbled and dropped my eyes to the floor. He got me there. "Not particularly…"

"Exactly. Besides, it's a good way to meet people," he continued pulling me to his truck.

I sighed as I got into the truck. "You know I'm not a very sociable person?"

"Okay," he shrugged, pulling out of the driveway at a speed that scared the crap out of me.

"Jesus! Slow down! Would they really care if we were that late?!" I gasped, gripping on to the armrest.

"Emily would," he said darkly.

* * *

**A/N: I know what you're thinking. Ducky, what in freaking pudding's name was that?! Uh, yeah. Sorry. It was something I did in my spare time. At 12:00 at night. (Yes, that is spare time for me. Got a problem with it? I had to go star watching for my stupid teacher and make these pretty little drawings. Idiot.) Well, thanks for reading!**

**-Ducky  
**


	3. Chapter 2

_Seth_

"Friggin'…. Where's Embry?!" Jacob demanded impatiently.

Of course he was in a rush. He was always in a rush. Had to get back to his Nessie. Not to say I didn't love the girl, no, she was great, but he could not stand two moments away from her without getting stressed out. Things like that worried me. Maybe I didn't want to imprint.

I'm Seth Clearwater, for heaven's sake! The free-willed, free-spirited kind of guy! I don't like to be tied down--and most definitely not by a _little girl_, like Jake.

So there we were, waiting in Emily and Sam's backyard, almost ready for a pack barbecue. And we were waiting on Embry. Most of the guys were already impatient--he was half an hour late. A first for the quiet guy. All of us were hungry, and Emily refused to bring the main course out without him there. Great. Well, at least it wasn't raining anymore.

Finally, the familiar roar of Embry's engine sounded in the driveway. I felt the need to run out there and bash his head in.

"Embry!" Paul roared, a look of fury evident on his face.

Embry turned the corner to the backyard and I noticed movement behind him, like a shadow. I stood up sharply, not even to my own accord or consciously. The next few moments happened in a rush.

A small girl, looking only the age of twelve, stuck to Embry. Not exactly clinging on, but close enough that fear was evident in her eyes. She was Asian, evidently, with long black hair and dark, dark brown eyes that were almost black--comparable to Jacob's, in a way. The girl was so small, it was no wonder she was frightened! She looked under five foot, while the guys and I were an average six foot, at least.

I met her dark brown eyes, and I do believe my heart stopped.

There is no way I can explain this unexplainable feeling.

It was hell, then absolute heaven. Everything that tied me down to earth, everything that made me Seth Clearwater, was snipped away. I was frightened as, well, hell. Everything was floating away from me. Leah, my mom, Jacob, the pack, the Cullens, the rez: all disappearing before my eyes. Or it seemed like it. Slowly, it seemed the girl guided all the lost strings to her. And they all formed together, to form one large, strong cord, very heavily attached to her. She held on to it tightly, not letting go. I didn't want her to.

She now held me to earth.

And, oh, _shit_, I just imprinted.

The thought hit me fast. I couldn't drop her gaze. I was locked into it. I began noticing all these little details. She had a flawless complexion. Her hair was not black, it was a very dark brown. She had very long lashes. Her lips were a soft pink. I looked deeper, deeper into her eyes. I could sense it right before me. She had a very good, brave soul.

It seemed like an eternity before she broke our eye contact. She looked down, but I did not look away. I noticed her long eyelashes brushed her cheekbones.

_I imprinted. I just freaking imprinted. _The words rang through my head again and again.

The ever observant packmates beside me gave me odd looks. Jared gave a low whistle. "Somebody's growin' up," he murmured.

"Embry, who is this?" Emily danced in front of the two, painfully breaking my gaze from the girl.

"Her name's Amaya--"

"Amy, um, actually," she put in with a soft voice. It wasn't sugary sweet, like that vampire Victoria, but it wasn't rough and sandpapery either. I couldn't really compare it to anything else. It was just too unique--too…. Amy.

"Amy," Embry said, "I found her on the corner,"

"Takin' them stray cats in," Paul remarked under his breath. I felt the urge to sock him in the face now, instead of Embry. Embry was fine now. He brought me Amy.

"What were you doing there?" I worked up the nerve to ask her directly. I didn't want to treat her like a _dog_ or something and act like she wasn't there.

"I… Umm… Long story?" she said shyly, she smiled hopelessly.

It was a smile that lit up my world. It wasn't like those cheesy movie moments where diamonds flash from her pearly white teeth. Yes, her teeth were pearly white, but it was more like a moth to a flame. I wanted to be closer to her, I wanted her to smile more. I wanted her to be happy--and I wanted me to be the one to make her happy.

"It's alright," I said, flashing a smile of my own. Her clothes were sopping wet, but her hair was only damp. Maybe this long story could wait for later.

She froze for a second, and I feared that I did something wrong.

"Amy, why don't we get you into some dry clothes?" Emily offered.

"Oh, no, it's okay," she insisted.

"Well, you aren't going to be hanging around my place sopping wet, so I'm going to give you new clothes. Come on," Emily dragged her by the wrist.

Poor girl.

"Holy _shit_!" Paul exclaimed as soon as the two girls were out of earshot.

Quil quickly put his hands around Claire's ears, a little late from protecting her from Paul's profanity. Was I going to be as whipped as that? I wasn't sure if I was happy or sad about that little piece of imprinting… Being whipped. As said, I'm a free-spirited kind of guy.

"Dang-g," Quil put in, "What's the chances of Embry finding a girl on the street and bringing her here for you to imprint on? I mean, really? That's like zero, man,"

I muttered something incomprehensible, even to myself, as I felt redness rising in my cheeks. Emily rescued me several moments later, appearing outside of the house.

"Embry!" she chastised, "What the hell were you thinking?! Bringing her here soaking wet! She could catch a cold--you know well it rains too much here!"

"Well… You guys were pissed and--"

"Screw being 'pissed'!" she hit him on the arm, "You want Seth's imprint to be sick?! You want your brother to be in pain?!"

So much for saving me. That crazy chick was just making it worse. The guys snickered around me, and I furiously stared at my shoes.

I tried to distract my thoughts from Emily yelling at Embry. Shoes. How odd I was in them again. My feet felt trapped, and I knew that if I got up, I'd be one one-thousandth slower at running with them than against my bare feet. We always wore shoes to the barbecues here--just to make us seem a little more normal. Screw shirts, though. We didn't need them.

Would Amy find it weird we didn't wear shirts? Would she like it? Would I ever even see her again? What if I don't? Would I follow her wherever she goes--even if she still doesn't really know me?

The moment she crept into my thoughts, she overtook them. Everything was immediately about her. Exactly what was her personality? Was it kind and happy? Dark and gloomy? Shy and scared?

Amy reappeared, nearly completely dry. Emily flew to her side immediately and began introductions.

"That's my fiancé, Sam. There's Jared, his girlfriend Kim. Quil, and the girl he's babysitting, Claire--" Quil made a face; he didn't believe _babysitting_ was the correct term-- "Paul, and his girlfriend Rachel. And then there's Embry, Brady, Collin, Leah, Jacob, and Seth!" Emily continued blabbering to the obviously shocked girl, "Leah and Seth are siblings; Rachel and Jacob are brother and sister--"

"Emily," Sam said.

"Amy, why don't you come over here? Grab some food?" I offered.

Embry snickered.

"Oh, no," she said, "I can't just--it's your food, don't worry. I don't need it. I'm not hungry,"

"You're hungry," Emily reprimanded, firmly dragging the poor girl to the sagging wooden tables. They creaked from the weight of the food necessary to keep us all wolves running.

"No, I'm not, really," she insisted, trying to resist Emily.

"Just one serving won't hurt," I said--hopefully sounding gentle, "We've got plenty of food to spare,"

Amy glanced at me for a second and seemed to give up. "Alright. But I'm not taking a lot,"

The small comment didn't seem to daunt Emily the slightest. She chirped quickly with joy and handed Amy a plate. As my friends around her loaded their plates, she daintily plucked one of each thing. It was like lunch on the first day of high school for her. She glanced around nervously, looking for a place to sit at the table.

"Amy, you can sit here," I patted the seat next to me.

Collin smirked.

Cautiously, Amy slid into the seat next to me, Embry next to her. She seemed quite dwarfed in between us.

I tried to make small talk. "So, are you from around here?"

"No," she said, taking a bite of her broccoli, "I'm from down in Cal--Richmond. Bay Area. Ever been there?"

"Nope. Is it nice there?" I asked, knowing I would never leave La Push. It was my home--I was surrounded by the forest I loved. Though the rain could get annoying, I knew that if I were to be somewhere _normal_, I would feel like an awkward fish out of water.

"Ehh… A'ight," she shrugged, "It's the ghetto,"

"What were you doing there?" Paul wrinkled his nose. Rachel smacked him, chastising him for being so rude.

"I live there," Amy said coldly, stabbing the pasta on her plate.

"But--You're like--"

A sneer crossed her face before she obliterated it and stabbed her pasta again. She glared at her plate, and I glared at Paul.

"Really?!" I hissed.

"Well--"

"Just shut _up_ for once!" I spat under my breath. I turned to Amy. "Ignore Paul," I said reassuringly.

She shrugged, then looked at me. She froze again and jerked back down to her food.

I felt a sudden sting to my heart. "You alright?" I asked.

"Yeah," she muttered, then louder, but not looking up, "You lived here your entire life?"

"Yeah. But it never stops being exciting," I rolled my eyes. Never. Seriously--if only she knew. Wolves and vampires? You really can't get more adrenaline junkie than that.

"Really?" she finally looked up disbelievingly. "You live on the rainiest town on the freaking planet--and it's tiny!"

I laughed. "It's actually only the rainiest town in the States, thanks. And we've got enough excitement here to keep us going for a while,"

Slowly, slowly, I learned about her. She was adopted. She wasn't a people person. She was kind. And she sang. Of course, once Paul heard this, he egged her on to sing. She kept shaking her head, insisting no, but he pressed on and on and on… And on. Until she finally sang, and man, could she sing!

Her voice, though always carrying a melodious tone, took on a whole new tone. It was sweet and loud and carrying… It was filled with emotion and raw power and energy. It was melodious and rhythmic and it somehow harmonized with itself. All at the same time. She could move earths with that voice. It lifted our hearts and decorated our souls and silenced our bodies. We were all stunned silent, to say the least.

"…_Where can love take us now, and we've been so far down, we can still touch the…_ sky?" she finished shyly, looking at us quickly, then looking down to her hands. I noticed she did that often.

"Damn!" Paul said.

Jared quickly closed his gaping jaw. Jacob's eyes were larger than the moon. Emily's eyes were even larger. She blinked several times, as if in shock.

"You aren't signed yet?! Are you some superstar in disguise or something?!" Collin demanded.

She giggled quietly. "No," she spoke softly while blushing a humble, beautiful crimson.

"You're great! Why aren't you enjoying yourself in Hollywood or something?" I asked, heart thudding. Damn.

"I… Well, you know… I lived in the ghetto."

"Well, there was Pac and B.I.G. and them--they're from the ghetto," I pointed out.

She shrugged. "Times are different,"

"50 Cent. He was from the Bay, right?" I wasn't the most fluent in rappers, but I knew some.

In fact, I wasn't most fluent in music at all anymore. Before, I had been into the whole music scene, listening to anything popular--including rap. But now, after phasing, I really didn't have that much time to settle down to listen to it between school and patrols and the Cullens and basically everything. And no, my mom will not buy me an iPod. No matter what. Can I say bitch without being called a spoiled brat?

"You're naming all these rappers," she pointed out.

"So?"

"No singers,"

"Is there really a difference?"

"You see, if there's anything that the record labels are looking for down in the hood, it's the rappers. 'Cuz they know what to rap about, they come hard. They're _raw_."

I heard a little ghetto accent in there. That was cute. "They won't even look at the singers?"

"They will, but they normally don't accept them," she said.

"Well, that's just rude," Kim pouted.

She shrugged again. "It's just the way it is,"

That was just too accepting. Wouldn't she fight for what she deserved? She was _amazing_, _powerful_. She _deserved_ a record deal--and I'm not saying it just because I'd imprinted on her, she really freaking deserved to become famous. I'm pretty sure we all of us around the table agreed wholeheartedly about that.

We all seemed to be easy in her presence, joking, laughing, just talking. She was easily accepted into our little pack and, maybe I was being optimistic, but I could actually imagine us having a future together. But knowing Edward and Bella, and Jacob and Nessie, that future would be a long ways off.

Yeah, you're probably wondering, _What the hell happened to happy Seth? Optimistic Seth?_ My mom wondered that too for a while, as did Leah and I. Leah, well she's always been moody ever since Sam, but me… Then we figured out it was just me dealing with the changes of phasing. I guess it's like hormones gone wild. So I lost a little bit of my optimism--suck it. It wasn't that much. I'm still here, I'm still happy.

"Amy, can you sing a whole song for us?" Brady asked shyly--you'd swear that boy was just as shy as Amy sometimes. Other times, you just wanted him to shut up.

Amy blushed, looking down. "I-I wouldn't know what to sing," she said.

"What's your favorite song?" Jacob. Oh, wouldn't he like to know. I could read it on her face. She didn't have a favorite song--she had too many to choose from.

"I… Dunno," she shrugged, looking at her plate as if she wished she had more food so she could do something other than talk. She looked up at Brady. "What song do you _want_ me to sing?"

Brady thought for a while. "What about… That song by that girl… Asian… With Iyaz--'Pyramids' or something along those lines…"

"'Pyramid'?" she asked. "By Charice?"

"That's the one," he nodded.

She took a deep breath and began slowly, still nervous, despite our compliments, "_Shawty's love is like a pyramid… We'll stay together 'til the very end…"_

_

* * *

_**A/N: If you haven't heard the song Pyramid by Charice featuring Iyaz, I really urge you to go check it out! It's great--even my parents, the music haters, like it! :) And, zomgz, yes, Amy can sing. She sings well. I really had trouble trying to convey the feeling of her singing, and once again, no beta. Sorry, this was the raw stuff. That I once again, wrote at 12 at night. Actually, I think this was 12:30. Oh well. So if you see any mistakes or anything of that sort, feel free to point it out! Review! 3**

**-Ducky**

**Click pleeasee(:**

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